


Burn Bright, Burn Fast

by WyattShepard



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2020-05-20 17:04:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19381027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WyattShepard/pseuds/WyattShepard
Summary: Thalia used to be court mage of Felwood. Her adoptive father - the baron of Felwood - was killed five years ago in the late stages of the Winter War. She managed to escape with one of the baron's sons and several others who were loyal to the baron. They have been in the shadows long enough, and it never was her style to sneak around anyways. She always burned the brightest and hottest, after all. They will take back the land that belongs to them.





	1. Prologue

_ When I was a little girl I used to be so afraid of my magic. Once, when it was first manifesting, I set my instructor’s hair on fire. After a quick spell to put it out, he smiled and assured me that this was normal (I think he meant the uncontrolled magic, not the part where I set his hair on fire). Over time I came to understand it more and fear it less, and eventually the fear faded completely. I won’t claim to have been the smartest kid, but I listened and I paid attention. I know how mages are treated in this world; how we are feared. But that fear can be used, if you know what to say and when to say it.  _

_ I have been selfish about my magic, often thinking that the world owed me something for giving me this mark. But I found out over time that this mark WAS what the world had given me. Last night, I even found out what to put my magic towards. I never knew my parents nor did I really care too much about them. The Baron found me when I was an infant, curled up inside a hollow tree with a wolf-puppy as my only protection. I’ve never heard of a wolf protecting a human infant, but this one apparently was. The pup even growled at him when he first found me. That wolf pup became Arlin, and she remains by my side. Whoever my real father and mother were, I doubt they could have done what The Baron did. He took me in, taught me how to control my magic when it manifested, treated me like I was another of his own. I only got to see the royals on certain days; days that I wasn’t having magical theory drilled into my head; The Baron’s family that had taken me in, given me the training to control my magic in the first place. I would look forward to spending those days with them. (Well, except Asher who always seemed like somewhat of a lout.) _

_  I owed him so much more than I could repay, which is why I joined the Felguard when I was old enough. As you can imagine magic is something in demand, especially in the military. I helped out at the medical camps, and provided intel with scrying pyromancy a couple of times, but my reputation for combat magic (mainly pyromancy) quickly spread. It felt like I was somewhere I could make a difference, and I was content serving the Baron’s family. The Winter War was horrible for both sides, and I was about to see what the real world was like. We were betrayed by the youngest of the Baron’s children, and the Felguard ended up on the run. I managed to reconnect with Wen and the group he had made it out with. Before I joined the Felguard I did serve the family as court mage; I got to know almost all of the royal children during that time, but I never imagined the betrayal.  _

_ We will be taking back the Felwood; that’s what my magic will do. I’ve seen great wizards and mages on my journeys, I can only guess at what I will eventually be able to do. But at least for now, I have my purpose. The younger brother, I call him Wen because his full name is troublingly long, has made a claim to the throne. I’ve been travelling with him and his group for awhile now, and if nothing else at least he has a better grasp on how to rule then Asher does. It’s late though, and someone will probably notice the fireball I have to keep me light while I write this, so I’m off to bed. _

 

_ ~Thalia, Sorceress of the Felwood _

 

Thalia put her quill down and stifled a yawn. She glanced over at the floating ball of fire beside her and waved it out of existence. She spared one last look out her window at the full moon before closing her journal and crossing the room to her bed.


	2. Meeting Royalty

_Six Months Earlier, About a month since the Radanian betrayal..._

“Do you think Wen made it out with anyone else,” Thalia let the question drift between herself and Arlin as they walked. The wolf whined quietly in response and wagged her tail harder. The mage sighed and removed her pack in search of the map.

“Hopefully not Asher,” she mumbled jokingly under her breath. She heard a confirming bark which made her smile. Then a loud noise, similar to a thunderclap, rang out suddenly, causing her to slam her hands over her ears. The inside of her head continued to bounce the sound around, forever increasing its volume to the point that the sorceress was nearly doubled over in pain. Then, without warning, it vanished. Slowly, very slowly, Thalia opened one eye. The sight of marbled, polished floor greeted her in place of the dirt path they had been walking on. She opened both eyes and stood straight up, whirling around to see where exactly she was. She stood in what looked to be a throne room, complete with a chair on the opposite side of the entrance and everything. It looked to be somewhat more fancy than how the Baron had kept his place back in Felwood. The next thing she noticed was that the throne was distinctly lacking a butt to sit on it. In fact, she and Arlin were the only ones in this room.

“What?” came out as little more than a whisper. Thalia quickly looked above her to find a still-glowing portal only a couple feet above her own head. Her burgundy-eyes widened.

“That’s… Not possible,” she murmured, then turned to Arlin and pointed to the portal repeating, “that isn’t possible.” The wolf whined and nudged the mage with the tip of her nose.

    “-and in accordance with those laws put in motion by your late-husband, we cannot advise any course of action-” came drifting down the hall, acting as a shot of adrenaline to the mage which caused her to half flail and half panic trying to decide how to explain this. She heard the sentence cut off short of being finished and slowly turned around to find a noblewoman, three guards, and what looked like a young lady of some measure of nobility looking in between her and the portal. She heard the portal swish to a close behind her and the room was filled suddenly with a silence so loud Thalia almost choked at the abruptness of it. She slowly turned to face them and tried to smile.

    “So…” she began but trailed off to muster her resolve before starting again, “I’m Thalia.”

    ----

    The Guards slammed her face into the marble floor, putting their weight on top of her back to prevent her from getting up. She saw Arlin bare her teeth and fall into a wider stance, the third guard not currently pinning her down drew his sword and put himself between the wolf and the two noblewomen. She saw the result of this playing out in her mind’s eye, not seconds from it actually unfolding.

    “Arlin, Emath’e,” she managed to yell the command over the shouting of the two guardsmen on top of her. The wolf glanced at her as if to confirm the word and after seeing Thalia’s stern glare, backed down slowly with only a whimper.

    “Stop resisting! No more words, mage,” the guard with his knee still in the middle of her back barked. She complied, falling silent as they hoisted her up roughly and turned her to face the two nobles.

    “You are in the presence of the Queen of Kaedwen, Ann-Katrin and her daughter, Princess Clara of Kaedwen,” one of the guards holding her barked sharply into her ear. She winced but nodded a greeting as if they had been old friends.

    “It’s a pleasure to meet both of you, but if you wouldn’t mind I already called off Arlin,” she said nodding towards the wolf still glancing between both guards holding her master, “so if you would be so kind as to call off your dogs as well?” One of the guardsmen punched her in the stomach, driving the air from her lungs.

    “Put her in a cell until we can find out what to do with her, and kill the mutt.” Thalia’s eyes widened as they began to drag her away. Her shouting fell on deaf ears as she struggled.

    Then there was a surge of magic - so thick it felt like Thalia was swimming in it- followed by the familiar smell of fire. The three of them whirled around to see the captain screaming and clutching his face where flames licked at the flesh and beard. The daughter, Clara, still had embers trailing from her hands which were cupped over her nose and the whole scene reminded Thalia of when she had cast her first spell, and Clara for her part looked terrified.

    Right, so accidental casting then, the mage thought, pushing past the protesting guards holding her. She waved a hand before her escorts could restrain her and the fire dispersed into embers that fluttered through the air and the man fell to his knees, clutching at his face.

    “Your majesty if I may,” the mage asked, “I believe I can be of service.” The Queen looked her over appraisingly before motioning to the guard captain. Thalia shrugged off the two men holding her and approached him. She put her hands on his shoulders and his eyes locked with hers.

    “I can help you, but you must trust me,” she told him. He nodded hastily and allowed her to help him lay down.

    “Now, I cannot guarantee that this will be painless, but know that it is nothing more than a healing spell.” She looked back to the Queen for confirmation. 

    “Your Majesty if I do this I will need your blessing, and afterward we will need to talk,” she said, nodding to the princess, “Also, no one touches Arlin,” She began rolling the sleeves of her dress up. The Queen glanced from her to the guard-captain below her, his skin still bubbling from the fire. There was a small whimper from the man as he attempted to stifle his cries of pain.

    “Very well,” Ann-Katrin said with a nod. Thalia nodded and lifted her hands above the man, a soft green glow emitting from them.

\----

    It took roughly an hour to numb the pain and remove a small amount of the scarring from the flames, but when the glow from her hands subsided her work was evident to everyone there. Only a fraction of scar tissue remained and the guard-captain sat up, feeling his face in astonishment. Thalia leaned back wiped the sweat from her brow and sighed, “It is done,” she announced. Almost instantly both guards were at her sides again and to her credit, Thalia didn’t resist but as it turns out, she didn’t have too. The Queen waved a hand and the two guards that held her arms released her with some hesitation. That was promising for the mage; if she could leave without having to kill anyone or without being killed herself, then she would. Either-or would work for her at this point.

    “You said your name was Thalia,” the Queen asked, raising an eyebrow. She nodded but kept quiet, knowing how she was supposed to act around royalty.

“I’ll hear you out, but you will have to stay under watch for the night,” Ann told her before she turned crisply to the guard-captain, “Donnec I want a full investigation, and make sure that miss Thalia has a decent enough place to sleep after she explains herself.” All three guards saluted instantly. The mage moved over to stand beside Arlin and scratched her behind the ears while the two lower-rank guards left to carry out the Queen’s wishes. Without another word Ann-Katrin and Clara both strode away, Thalia and Arlin falling in behind them and the guard-captain - Donnec - behind them. It only took a couple of corners before they reached a large dark-wood door. Thalia was impressed; Millford Palace was smaller than Ard Carraigh, in fact she was pretty sure that Carraigh might be larger than the whole of Felwood, but she couldn’t be sure. Donnec opened the door and bowed deeply as both the Queen and Princess passed within. Thalia turned and gave Arlin another scratch behind the ears.

“Sorry girl, I’m gonna need you to stay out here. Royalty and all,” she shrugged a shoulder, “Dhama, Tel’josh.” The wolf barked her understanding and sat on her haunches, wagging her tail.

“What’s that language,” Donnec asked, his eyebrows raised slightly. Thalia batted her eyelashes and gave him her sweetest smile as she responded, “Elvhen; It’s what she’s trained in.” She counted it as a personal victory to see his jaw almost touch the floor. She always enjoyed having that effect on people. She winked at him as she followed the royalty into the room.

“Donnec, have those burns checked out,” the Queen said. At his hesitance, she sighed and gave him a tired smile.

“Dear if she wanted us dead I’m fairly certain we would be,” the Queen locked eyes with the mage, “have Lara come to my quarters once you have been to the infirmary.” Donnec saluted crisply and closed the door behind him. Now or never then.

“Sorry about all of this I honestly don’t know what happened,” Thalia blurted before remembering who she was talking to. She cleared her throat and started again.

“Okay, hi sorry propper introductions. I’m Thalia, Court-Mage to the late Baron of -” she was cut off as the Queen made a silencing motion with her hand.

“As long as you don’t intend to harm me or my daughter, you are a guest,” the Queen said. She took a seat in one of the leather and fur armchairs that populated the room, motioning for her to do the same. The mage nodded and sat, nearly sinking into the plush chair. 

“How did you get into the throne room,” Clara asked curiously, the first thing Thalia had heard from her. She looked over at the younger woman - only about sixteen, if that - and shrugged her shoulders.

“That’s just the thing though: I can’t even cast the spell that brought me here,” she glanced between Clara and her mother, using the time to let her words sink in. Clara raised an eyebrow and gave the mage a look that she had seen many times: mounting-suspicion.

“What, you think my plan was to open a standing portal - which I still haven’t really figured out yet - but you think I cast it and jumped in,” she knew that her sarcasm could get her tongue cut out, but she was just tired of today. 

“No explosives, no plan, no back-up worth a damn; and you think I came here to conquer?” The Queen remained silent through this, watching the exchange closely. Clara shrugged defensively, took a step back, and broke eye contact. Thalia could read body language like that at the age of nine. Checkmate.

“Enough,” the Queen commanded, without changing the volume of her voice or the severity of it. Both women did, however, stop talking; Ann-Katrin probably enjoyed that part of being queen the most. Thalia felt as if she was being scolded.

“Look, I’m sorry Clar- Princess,” the mage hastily corrected herself, “I’m sorry Princess. Believe me, it’s been one hell of a day.” 

“Just Clara please, and I’m sorry too. It’s gotten harder and harder to control my magic lately,” the Princess said, rubbing her arm absentmindedly. Thalia affixed the queen with a thoughtful look.

“Should I assume that her magic is hush-hush,” she asked, finally relaxing into the posh chair. She really would have to talk to Wen about getting some of these chairs. The Queen nodded solemnly.

“The knowledge that she has magic could be catastrophic if it were to get out,” she told Thalia, the underlying pleading quite evident. 

“So what she needs,” Thalia said, twisting a lock of red hair around her finger, “is a teacher.”


	3. Saving a Baroness

_Six Months Later, Current Date_

Thalia rolled over, dragging her blankets closer. This, of course, did nothing to stop the banging on her door.

“Wake up Lass, it’s noon,” came from outside. Reimlich had agreed to teach the young mage hand to hand, but wasn’t fully aware of her sleeping habits. Thalia hadn't gotten up before noon a single day this week, and it was beginning to annoy him. From the other side of the door Reimlich heard cursing and the sound of struggling, and then a loud _thud._ More struggling, then the distinct flare of fire. Cursing, he brought his foot back and kicked the door open. Inside a confused looking Thalia sat on the floor, her ginger hair disheveled and messy, the ashen remains of her blankets drifting lazily to the ground around her. 

“Lass you can’t set shit on fire like this,” Reimlich scolded, watching the ash drift slowly down. Thalia stifled a yawn and scratched the back of her head.

“It actually has happened more than you would think,” she commented while she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

“But what’s up,” she asked before yawning again. Reimlich frowned at the nickname she had given him, his mouth disappearing behind his brown beard.

“Come on, the young Lord needs our help with something.”

“Can’t I at least have breakfast first,” she whined, standing to stretch. This didn’t seem to work for the Man-at-Arms as his brow furrowed and he shook his head.

“Get dressed, and you whine like a child,” he said, closing the door behind him. He heard the sorceress let out an exaggerated sigh, which brought a small smile to his face. It’s the little things in life that he enjoyed and bothering Thalia was quickly becoming one of them. She reminded him of his little sister, but he knew that he couldn’t return to that life.

 _No,_ he chastised himself. He shook his head to clear the memories and set to pacing the hallway while he waited on her. 

\----

“So do you know what Wen needs,” Thalia asked while they made their way to the Baron’s quarters. Reimlich grunted his response. About as helpful as she was expecting as responses with him go.

“Well, hopefully it won’t be that bad,” the mage said with a smile. They snaked their way through the maze-like layout of the keep to a mahogany-wood door. The guard in front of it saluted Wen and opened the door. Thalia couldn't resist winking at the young recruit as she stepped through the doorway.

“I’m glad you’ve come,” the baron said once they had entered his quarters and the guard had closed the door. Thalia made a mental note of the fact that he had stayed on the other side of it.

 _What could be so private that even the guards had to be sent away,_ she thought as Wen took a seat in one of the plush, leather-padded chairs. She scratched Arlinn behind the ears and became lost in her thoughts.

“Now that you’re all here though, I have bad news I’m afraid: my daughter, your betrothed,” he gestured to Wen, “has gone missing.”

The silence that followed was palpable. Thalia held her breath in fear that the smallest sound would shatter everything. Wen leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees while he thought. Then after what felt like an eternity, he met the baron’s eyes and said, “Tell me everything you know.”

“She visits a nearby village once every two weeks or so,” the baron began pacing the length of his room, hands clasped behind his back, “yesterday the attachment of guard that was sent with her turned up in the village without her, claiming to have been knocked out.”

  Thalia watched Wen closely but he remained calm and collected as he always was. Arlinn nudged her hand and she started scratching the wolf again.

“The investigation we started turned up a couple clues as to what happened: first, we don’t think she was part of this plan and therefore was taken against her will.” Thalia raised an eyebrow and turned away from Arlinn and the wolf whined quietly in protest.

“Why would she have been suspected of setting up her own kidnapping,” the mage blurted before her brain caught up with her mouth. She muttered an apology but the baron looked pleased.

“Keen eye. She has been seeing a young man who owns a farm just outside the village,” he glanced at Wen as he added, “her guards have caught them several times and believe it is more than simple friendship.”

Thalia perked up suddenly and leaned closer to Wen to whisper, “I can help with this.” but when he turned and looked at her expectantly she coughed and added, “later though.”

The heir raised an eyebrow questioningly but didn’t press her. They had known one another long enough for him to trust her, at least that’s what she hoped. It’s common knowledge to never trust a sorceress.

“So could he have something to do with this,” Wen asked as he stood. The baron nodded, his pacing halted as he turned fully to them.

“Find out, and bring those that took her to justice. Doing so will cement my backing for your claim to the throne,” he said, offering the young lord a hand. Wen hesitated half a second before clasping it in his own.

\----

 

They made camp about thirty minutes away from the village that night. Wen wanted everyone to be ready and rested for whatever they might find. They gathered around Thalia’s campfire as she laid out the materials she would need to cast the ritual: two pinches of ash, a sample of tree sap, all the fifth essence she owned.

“You’re sure you can do this,” Wen asked her, worry evident in his voice. Thalia gave him her best reassuring smile.

“I am certain I can do this, it’s just dangerous if they happen to have a mage,” she responded, hoping that her voice sounded more sure then she actually felt. She took comfort in the familiar hum of mana underneath her skin and breathed deep. She turned and gazed deeply into the fire and cast the ritual. Her eyes shimmered with an amber glaze bright enough to give off light brighter than her campfire, and her body became as still as a statue. She watched the scene unfold, the events of the kidnapping playing out like a dream inside the flames. Just before Reimlich reached out to her Thalia’s head snapped up.

“I know what happened to her.”

\----

 

Dragging herself through more mud that was already caked onto her dress, Thalia swore under her breath. How did she end up talked into this anyways? She glanced to the treeline and nodded slightly, hoping that Wen saw her. Now she just had to wait for the signal. It seemed like a simple plan: Wen and Zev attacked them from range, then she and the others jumped out of the grass to keep them from closing the distance. It only occurred to her now that she was essentially bait. Just then the signal (the sound of Wen’s crossbow going off) went up. She heard two _thud_ sounds right before the camp exploded in voice. _Showtime._

She leapt to her feet and, for lack of a better idea, ran at the kidnappers screaming at the top of her lungs. Only one seemed to take notice of her and swiveled the nose of his crossbow in her direction.

_Shit._

 He loosed a bolt into her shoulder, the pain rippled through her and ignited actual anger. Her hair burst into flames, the bandit was momentarily taken aback, but that was all she needed. Thalia enjoyed the look she received; that look of mixed fear and shock used to bother her. It didn’t anymore, especially in moments like these. Her fingers sparked to life and she launched a fireball at her attacker, catching him square in the face. His head popped like a balloon and the rest of his body fell to the ground. The door to the fishing shack they were currently laying siege to was kicked open suddenly and a man roughly seven feet tall stepped out in full plate armor.

_Double shit._

He turned and made his way over to her friends, Reimlich and Oscar. Thalia took off at a full sprint towards them but couldn’t get in range in time. She saw the man slash across the Oscar’s chest with enough force that he collapsed and glanced up, dazed. Zev buried one of his arrows straight through a weak point in the armor, grabbing her attention.

“Can you do that again,”  his accented voice carried over to her as he pointed to the headless bandit from earlier. She honestly wasn’t sure. Her blood ran cold as she watched the man raise his claymore above her fallen comrade. Before she knew it, she was sprinting again.

“No!” Thalia recognized her own voice but hadn’t remembered screaming the word. She dug deep, all the way to the bottom of her being, putting everything she had into this next fireball. She wasn’t going to sit idle and lose someone again. 

Never again. 

She sent the fire flying for the back of his helmet, only releasing her held breath when it made contact. He threw down his massive claymore and struggled to get the piece of armor removed. As hands came in contact with the warping metal there was an audible hiss that Thalia was certain even Wen could hear from the forest. The helmet continued to pop and hiss, warping from the heat it was suddenly subjected too. Reimlich dragged the still-dazed Oscar away just as the enemy above him fell forwards and made a small crater in the soft mud. Thalia would have even cheered if she didn’t crumple to the ground like a sack of bricks herself.


End file.
